


Plaid Shirt Therapy

by violue



Series: Dan Westchester, Hello Kitty Enthusiast [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Fluff, Past Character Death, it's all very mild, mild depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:17:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5385644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violue/pseuds/violue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel comes home from work upset, and Dean has just the thing to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plaid Shirt Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the middle of writing a new Destiel AU, but I couldn't resist...

There is no TV in Dean’s new house. If Dean and Castiel want to watch something, they have Sam’s laptop and Castiel’s desktop computer to keep them entertained. In their living room, in the place where a TV would logically go, there is instead the massive chunk of drywall cut out of the ceiling of Dean’s old apartment. After debating the feasibility of attaching the drywall to the ceiling in the bedroom of their rental home, Dean and Castiel had decided to put it up against the wall in the living room, then parked their couch in front of it. Some nights they cuddle on the couch in the glow of Sam’s glow-in-the-dark stars until they fall asleep, and eventually awaken stiff and sore, but content. That’s where Dean is now. It’s not dark in the room, so it doesn’t have quite the same effect, but Dean’s by himself and feeling lonely, so he’d rather be in the spot that makes him feel a little less blue.

It’s two in the afternoon on a Tuesday. Dean hasn’t found a job in Des Moines yet, but since he has a ton of Dead Brother Money still sitting in his account, the only real downside to Dean’s unemployment is how fucking bored he is. He’s been sitting in his boxers, watching Led Zeppelin videos on Sam’s laptop for two hours now, so he doesn’t exactly feel like he’s accomplished anything. Maybe he could bake something, maybe surprise Castiel with a pie. Dean’s pretty sure they don’t have the ingredients for pie in the kitchen, but going to the store would give him a reason to put some pants on. He stands, setting Sam’s laptop on the coffee table to stretch, and nearly jumping out of his fucking skin when the front door suddenly opens.

There’s an urge to cover himself, but it’s just Castiel coming through the door.

“Hey,” Dean says, padding over to where Castiel is fussing with his trench coat, “you’re home early.”

Castiel turns to face Dean, and he looks… awful. He looks like he’s been crying, and Dean aches at the sight of his red eyes and despondent expression.

“Hi,” Castiel mumbles.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Dean says, pulling Castiel over to the couch.

“I, uh… I’m having a bad day,” Castiel says, voice cracking slightly. He goes where Dean leads him, plopping down on the couch and staring at his feet when Dean crouches to untie his shoes. “I can do that.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you can,” Dean agrees, pulling off Castiel’s sneakers. “Did something happen at the store to make it a bad day? Or is it just a bad day all on its own?” Castiel has days like that, where he’s sad for reasons he can’t quite put his finger on, and he just stays that way until he sleeps and resets. Hell, they _both_ have days like that.

“Something happened, I guess.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“No, I’ll just start crying again. I don’t feel like crying any more today.”

“Fair enough,” Dean says. He sits by the arm of the couch, reaching over and pulling at Castiel until they’re sitting chest to back, legs on the couch. He nuzzles against the back of Castiel’s neck, smiling to himself when he feels Castiel relax slightly. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too. You should come to the store more often.”

“I think about it a lot, but I don’t want you to get sick of me or whatever.”

“That seems unlikely. I enjoy your company, Dean.”

“Well that’s good, since we’re renting a house together and all.”

“So, you’ll come by the store more?”

“Until I get a job. If you’re _sure_ I won’t be in the way.”

Castiel relaxes a little more against Dean, letting out a happy sigh. It’s quiet for a few minutes. Castiel is holding Dean’s left hand, tracing the calloused skin, while Dean’s right hand is carding through the soft, dark brown mess on Castiel’s head. It’s nice. When Dean is tangled up with Castiel like this, he feels so close to peace. As close as he can get at this point in his life.

“I love you,” Dean whispers.

“I love you too, Dean.”

“Tell me why you came home early, baby.”

Castiel sighs, something annoyed and fond. “An older woman came in today with her grandsons. They were about ten or eleven years old, brown hair, blue eyes… twins.”

“Oh, Cas…”

“Watching them, it reminded me of what it was like to have my twin with me. We were so very close, so tuned in to one another. Not just from sharing a womb, but from sharing a bedroom all our lives. Growing into young men side by side every day. We used to joke about how we’d take the same major in college, get jobs in the same company, marry a brother and sister set of twins, get houses next door to each other, and live our entire lives as twins who probably spent too much time together. And those two boys might get to have that life, but I’ll never get to know if Jimmy and I would have stayed close all our lives.”

Dean’s practically wrapped around Castiel at this point, but he holds Castiel a little tighter, hugs him with his arms and legs like a koala in a tree. Dean can hear Castiel’s little sniffles, knows he’s crying. Part of him regrets asking Castiel to talk about it.

“It’s not just that, though,” Castiel says after a moment, voice gone soft and a little hopeless. “I was thinking about how some days when you’re missing Sam and you go and put on one of his old shirts, you always seem to feel a little better. I don’t have anything of Jimmy’s, other than photos and a lock of hair. When I came back from my first day back in school after his death, my parents had completely emptied his side of the room. Disposed of, or donated everything. They even got some of my things on accident.”

“That’s really fucked up.”

“I understood that they thought it would help them move on, but they should have warned me. There are so many things I would have _kept_. I should have had the chance to keep them. The whole family should have had a say.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. You’re right. They should have told you. He was your brother. Your _twin._ You deserved the chance to keep whatever you wanted.”

Castiel sighs. “Okay, now my nose is running. Crying was a bad idea.”

Dean can’t help but let out a small chuckle, kissing the back of Castiel’s head before letting him get up and go to the bathroom. As soon as he hears the bathroom door close Dean gets up, heading for their bedroom.

He never thought he’d feel lucky over something like having a bunch of his dead brother’s stuff, but he does. The shirts, the laptop, the giant piece of drywall covered in phosphorescent stars, the other stuff in a couple of boxes Dean still hasn’t unpacked… they’re all things he has around to help him still feel connected to his brother. Castiel has a lock of hair and some old photos, and that’s it. It sucks.

He digs two of Sam’s shirts out of the bottom drawer of their dresser; a brown plaid flannel, and a blue and white plaid shirt. Castiel comes back out a moment later, and Dean holds up the shirts.

“Pick one.”

Castiel looks surprised at first, then pulls off his t-shirt, throwing it in the direction of their hamper. “The brown one.”

Dean tosses the brown flannel to Castiel, putting the plaid shirt on himself. He doesn’t bother to button the shirt, but Castiel does, doing up each button slowly, reverently, while Dean sits on the bed watching. It’s like some sort of fucked up reverse strip tease. It’s making Dean feel all warm and gooey inside.

Castiel finishes buttoning up the shirt and spreads his arms out wide, practically swimming in the large shirt and looking at Dean expectantly. “How do I look?”

“Uh, I’m feeling some confusing feelings that I should probably talk to a therapist about,” Dean says.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “I thought we were having a moment, here.”

“We are! We are, come here,” Dean says.

Castiel sits next to him, taking his nearest hand and lacing their fingers together. “Thank you, Dean.”

“I know it’s not the same as having clothes from someone you actually knew and loved, but—”

“Dean, this is perfect. It means a lot to me... _Sam_ means a lot to me.”

Dean can feel his eyes watering. “Well,” he mutters, “good.”

Castiel lies down, smiling when Dean crawls over him. “I really do appreciate this.”

Dean lies over Castiel, settling with his ear over Castiel’s heart. They end up in this position a lot; Dean listening to Sam’s heart beating away, Castiel’s arms wrapped tight around him. Dean feels loved and protected like this.

“I’m so glad I came home instead of sitting around the store crying,” Castiel says softly, kissing the top of Dean’s head.

“Me too. And I’m glad you came home when you did, I’d just decided to get dressed and go to the store. I got it in my head that I wanted to bake a pie.”

“Ooh, a pie? What kind?”

“Apple, probably. Used to make those with Bobby when I was living with him.”

Castiel’s hold loosens. “I think pie sounds lovely.”

Dean makes a whining sound, rubbing his cheek against Castiel’s chest. “But you’re home. I don’t want to get up and leave _now_ , we’re cuddling!”

“Think about how amazing it would be to cuddle next to me in bed with slices of fresh apple pie. Maybe with some vanilla ice cream. While watching Star Wars on the laptop.”

Dean groans, rolling off of Castiel and grabbing a pair of jeans from the floor. Castiel _never_ wants to watch Star Wars, he knows how to play dirty. “Fine. But you’re coming with me to the store.”

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel says, chuckling quietly.

 

*

 

It turns out Castiel is right. Cuddling in bed with apple pie, ice cream, and Star Wars playing _is_ pretty fucking amazing.

 


End file.
